Santana
by gleeme33
Summary: Santana Lopez, a rising Hispanic singer, is shot dead.


**We're watching the **_**Selena **_**movie in my Spanish class, so this is based on the murder of Selena Quintanilla, who was shot by the leader of her fan club when she returned to her hometown to do a concert there, as far as I know. It's not supposed to be exactly like it, I'm just basing this off of it. Just a one-shot. Thanks and enjoy.**

_Santana._

"You're going to be great, baby," Brittany told her while they were still backstage. Even though she loved the craziness of New York and Miami and Los Angeles, for some reason it felt great for Santana to be back in Lima, Ohio. Here, with Brittany – this is where it all started, really. If she had never joined the New Directions, she never would have discovered her love for singing, gone off to New York instead of Kentucky, and never would have become a huge star. All of the New Directions in her graduating class turned out well – Rachel was a Broadway star, Kurt ended up in a career in fashion design, Finn served in the army for almost five years now and was venerated as a war hero, Quinn became a heart surgeon after Yale, Mike is a dancer at Carnegie Hall, and Puck went on to be a music producer. Maybe it was good that Brittany had to repeat her senior year – Santana would have wanted to stay close to wherever she went to college if they went at the same time – but now, she had no regrets…only a whole stadium full of fans waiting for her.

"Oh, Britt…" she trailed off, closed her eyes for a second, and took a deep breath. "I love you. I just…I love you so much, Brittany…" Her long-time girlfriend kissed the singer on the cheek and replied:

"I love you too. And you're _going _to be great, no doubt about it!"

"Thank you…" Santana breathed as they walked closer to the stage. "Thank you for always being there for me."

"I always will be, San, you know that," Brittany told her. "Actually, I…wanted to ask you something."

"Really? Go ahead – ask me."

"I…uh…" the blonde bit her lip. "I'll ask you after the show. You're on in three minutes and this 'll take a little longer then that."

"Brittany?"

"Yeah, San?"

"I love you."

"You just told me that, San!" The ex-cheerleader laughed.

"I know. I just…I don't ever wanna stop saying it."

"Santana?" A new voice interrupted – it was her manger. "_Usted está en en treinta segundos_! You're on in thirty seconds!"

"_Yo voy a estar ahi! _I'll be right there!" She yelled as she ran up the steps to the stage. Then, she looked back to her girlfriend and said: "I can't wait to answer your question. Don't worry – I'll be back soon."

The entire Lima stadium was full to capacity – some of the faces in the crowd belonged to Santana's friends and ex-classmates, some belonged to family, and some belonged to fans. No matter who they belonged to, one thing was for sure – everyone there was there for one reason: to hear her sing.

"Ladies and gentlemen! _Señoras y señores_!" The announcer boomed in English and then in Spanish. "Please welcome – Santana! _Démosle la bienvenida – Santana!"_ The audience went crazy when she stepped out on that stage.

"Hello!" She shouted to them. "_Hola_!" After she played to the crowd a little, Santana started her first song of the night, _Bidi Bidi Bom Bom_. It was a Spanish song, but even the non-Spanish speakers in the room sung along to the lyrics:

"_Bidi bidi bom bom_

_Bidi bidi bom bom_

_Cada vez, cada vez que lo veo pasar_

_Mi corazn se enloquece_

_y me empieza a palpitar_

_Bidi bidi bom bom_

_y se emociona, ya no razona_

_No lo puedo controlar_

_Bidi bidi bom bom_

_y se emociona, ya no razona_

_Y me empieza a cantar_

_Me canta as:_

_Bidi bidi bom bom_

_Bidi bidi bom bom_

_Bidi bidi bidi bidi bidi bom bom_

_Bidi bidi bidi bidi bidi bom bom_

_Cada vez, cada vez que lo oigo hablar_

_Me tiemblan hasta las piernas_

_y el corazn igual_

_Bidi bidi bom bom_

_y se emociona, ya no razona_

_No lo puedo controlar_

_Bidi bidi bom bom_

_y se emociona, ya no razona_

_Y me empieza a cantar_

_Me canta as:_

_Cuando escucho esta cancin,_

_mi corazon quiere cantar as_

_Me canta as, me canta a ti_

_Cada vez que lo veo pasar_

_Mi corazn se enloquece.._

_Cada vez que lo veo pasar_

_Y me empieza a palpitar_

_As, as!_"

She really couldn't remember the duration of the show – it was that rush, that perfect feeling of being whatever she wanted to be, that took over her entire being. The last song she ever sung was a song called _Dreaming Of You_:

"_Late at night when all the world is sleeping_

_I stay up and think of you_

_And I wish on a star_

_That somewhere you are thinking of me too_

_'Cause I'm dreaming of you tonight_

_'Til tomorrow I'll be holding you tight_

_And there's nowhere in the world I'd rather be_

_Than here in my room, dreaming about you and me_

_Wonder if you ever see me_

_And I wonder if you know I'm there_

_If you looked in my eyes_

_Would you see what's inside? Would you even care?_

_I just wanna hold you close_

_But so far all I have are dreams of you_

_So I wait for the day and the courage to say_

_How much I love you, yes, I do_

_I'll be dreaming of you tonight_

_'Til tomorrow I'll be holding you tight_

_And there's nowhere in the world I'd rather be_

_Than here in my room, dreaming about you and me_

_Corazon_

_I can't stop dreaming of you_

_No puedo dejar de pensar en ti_

_I can't stop dreaming of you_

_Como te necesito_

_I can't stop dreaming of you_

_Mi amor, como te exstra_

_Late at night when all the world is sleeping_

_I stay up and think of you_

_And I still can't believe that you came up to me_

_And said, "I love you," I love you too_

_Now I'm dreaming with you tonight_

_'Til tomorrow and for all of my life_

_And there's nowhere in the world I'd rather be_

_Than here in my room, dreaming with you endlessly_

_Dreaming with you tonight_

_'Til tomorrow I'll be holding you tight_

_And there's nowhere in the world I'd rather be_

_Than here in my room, dreaming with you endlessly_

_I'll be dreamin'._

_Dreaming of you tonight_

_Endlessly_

_And I'll be holding you tight_

_'Till tomorrow_

_Dreaming with you tonight!_

_Endlessly_

_Endlessly_

_Endlessly_

_Dreaming._"

It wasn't even a full day later when she sat in room 128 of the near by Day's Inn. Santana sat there, out of her mind.

"Please…" her voice cracked. "_Please_! Please…" she cried. "_Please_!" Bailing, wailing now. "_Please_! Don't do this – _please_! _Please_! I have a girlfriend I want to spend the rest of my life with. I want to have kids, have a family. _Please_ don't this!" She nearly chocked on her own shaking breath. "_Please_…"

But the gun still stayed in the woman's hand.

"_Shhh_…" she murmured. "_Shhh_, Santana. Don't cry now, don't cry. It's going to be okay…" Santana whimpered, however, as the woman cocked the smoky gun. In another second, that gun was pointed at the singer's head. "_Shhh_…" she repeated. "You'll be safe, soon, very soon…"

"Please, please…" Santana tried to breathe. "I'm safe, I'm safe _now_! Please, _please _– put the gun down. Put the gun down, and we'll both walk away – we'll both go home to our families and be _safe_, okay? All you have to do is put the gun down – "

" – It's not safe!" She interrupted. "It's not _safe_! I'm trying to help you, Santana, _save_ you! You'll be safe soon, I promise, you'll be safe soon. _Shhh _– don't cry!" She added as hysterical tears streamed down the singer's face yet again. "Don't cry! I'm going to make it all better…" Then, she started counting down. "Ten, nine, eight…"

Santana closed her eyes.

"Seven, six, five…"

Santana took her last breath.

"Four, three, two…"

Santana gave up on fighting.

"One."

Santana screamed.

She ran, her entire being stained with blood – first red, then so deep it became black. She saw nothing; could do nothing. All she could do now was to let someone find her. She didn't want to die without anyone knowing what happened to her – she would get herself justice, if it was the last thing she did.

Santana collapsed.

"Oh my _God_!" Came one voice from the hotel lobby.

"She's bleeding!" Yelled another.

"She's _dying_!" Screamed a third.

"Call _911_! Call _911_!" But it was too late.

Santana bled to death.


End file.
